


It's up to you.

by TamzStripped



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M, Tags Will Update As Story Progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-13 01:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15352767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamzStripped/pseuds/TamzStripped
Summary: In a world where Werewolves are bought and sold as slaves, Stiles and his friends make a vow to save as many as they can.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting around in my drafts for almost 6 years. I've got about 15k already, just needs heavy editing. Figured i'd share :)

Stiles is startled awake by the sound of his phone ringing on his poor excuse for a night stand. “‘Lo?” He barely grunts into the receiver.

“Stiles. It’s me.”

“Lydia,” he huffs, squinting at the analogue clock on his night stand. “It's 3:47 in the freaking morning.”

“I know, I know. What makes you think I don’t know that?” She doesn't give him time to answer. “I think it’s time you purchase your first wolf.”

He groans at that. “Did you miss the part about what time it is? We’ve talked about this, can we just do this tomorrow...err later?”

Lydia's been on his case about using his mother's life insurance. They have a plan, he just hasn’t taken any of the necessary steps because he's been procrastinating, because of reasons.

Reasons that he's not going to think about right now.

“No,” She says, and he knows he’s already lost this battle so he sits up rubbing the still moist sleep from his eyes, already preparing for a very long day.

“Why now?” Why this early in the morning? Why not tomorrow, or next week, or next year for that matter?”

He turns on his bedside lamp and slips into his shoes. The concrete floors aren’t exactly pleasant first thing in the morning, or at this ungodly hour.

“You know I keep an eye on all trade posts and cross reference any wolves that come or go so I can keep adding to my family.”

He grunts in acknowledgement, Lydia has six wolves last he checked.

“But I don’t think this one's for me,” she finishes softly.

This alerts him because she always sounds confident in everything she bothers to say. She always ‘knows’ things, not ‘thinks’.

“So that makes him good for me?” He starts brewing some coffee, so his brain can catch up to speed. “Look, I’m not ready for one yet, Lydia.”

“Well get ready, Stiles.”

Ah, there’s the Lydia he knows so well.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!” She says it like its final.

He groans vehemently.

“It’s a Hale, Stiles,” she says softly.

His heart sinks. “Which post?” He’s already in his closet looking for clothes, coffee forgotten.

“Do you not even care who it is?” She asks almost curious.

“No,” he says loud enough for her to hear as he hits speakerphone and sets his cell down, then curiosity wins. “Which one?”

She laughs, “It doesn’t say, only has his surname. Some files are better put together than others, this one... not so great. I just thought that would be your first question.” She gets serious again. “Look Stiles, his references are...intense.”

Stiles listens to papers rustle on the other end of the line as Lydia sorts through the files.

“Doesn’t work well with others. Terrible attitude. Prone to breaking things.” She starts listing off in monotone, “Great if you’re into the brooding, dominating-” she cuts herself off. “Oh. Well, I do not need to know that, and neither do you.” She pauses for a moment. “You would think with the number of these I sort through trying to find stable wolves that would integrate well with our family, I would be used to reading references like that. Just. Makes me sick.” She clears her throat. “Let's just move onto the rest of his file.”

Stiles is still getting ready, bile rising in the back of his mouth thinking about how some people buy werewolves just to violate them.

Both Jackson and Erica had gone through multiple brothels. He remembers Lydia calling him crying at four in the morning when one of them had had a nightmare and told her bits and pieces of their past.

“Ugh, yeah let’s do that.” He brushes his teeth hoping to get rid of the acid in his mouth as Lydia continues.

“One of the few remaining of the Hale pack, next in line as Alpha. Sterilized by _Argent Industries - Medical_. Broken  & Trained by Kate Argent. Has been bought and sold nine times. Strengths: Abnormal physical strength. Appearance. Grooming.” She huffs, “That’s a first. He must be so bad that a selling point is his appearance. Weaknesses: Poor social skills. Irrational fear of fire. Surly. Electricity. Wolfsb-” She stops again. “Now they are just listing general wolf weaknesses. Who the hell put this together?”

Stiles is getting ready to walk out the door. “Doesn’t matter. No one is ever going to put another one together for him again.” Who ever he is…

“Stiles, they aren’t even open. Not for business anyway, you have to wait until eight.”

He pulls at his hair, keys scraping his forehead. “Then why couldn’t this wait? Now I'm going to be a mess for the next four hours. I hope you’re happy.”

“I thought you would need more convincing.” She answers simply.

That startles him. Why would she think he would need to be convinced? It’s a Hale!

She continues answering his question, “You just haven’t been taking the plan very seriously the last few months. Danny and I thought you'd given up, and weren’t really invested anymore.” She finishes with just the right level of emotion in her voice prompting him to open up and bare his soul.

Ha! Not happening Lydia. Come back later when open for business. Nope. Not talking about it.

“I’m coming over.” There isn’t protest on the other end of the line when he opens the door to his loft to leave.

===

When he gets there all the lights are off except for the sitting room and the gym downstairs. Some of the wolves are probably already getting in their morning workout and Lydia is in the den waiting for Stiles to join her.

When Isaac opens the door smiling, Stiles moves forward and gives him a hug. He’s like the little brother he never had. The closest thing he has to a brother is Scott, who is away for Med School, so he has a temporary opening.

“Hey, boy scout!” Stiles says cheerfully into his ear, “Jackson and the twins still giving you hell?”

Isaac squeezes him harder.

“Some of us just aren't built for the muscles, ya know.” Stiles smirks tickling his side.

Isaac flinches away from his onslaught of fingers with a quiet laugh. “Lydia’s waiting for you by the fire.”

Stiles nods, giving Isaac one more smile before making his way further into this mansion she calls home.

It shouldn’t surprise him that she already has her life together. She was always the smartest and most practical of their group growing up. Taking college courses during the summers of both sophomore and junior year, using the money left to her by her father to invest, which instantly payed off.

It only took a matter of five years for her to have this place built and her investment company off the ground.

These are some of the reasons he loves Lydia. He has no idea what he'd do without her in his life, and thanks his lucky stars that he’s on her good side. Anyone found on her bad side? Well… it’s not pretty.

Isaac is one of her newer adoptions, still working on integrating into the pack here. He’s a sweet kid though; just wants everyone to be happy.

His last owner beat him and locked him in a freezer 75% of the time. Worst part was that is was his own father. When he was bitten his father demanded rights and then tortured him because it’s legal to abuse a wolf. Which, for the record, Stiles is _Not_ okay with.

“Hey, Stiles.” Lydia pats the couch, inviting him to sit down.

“Lyds,” he breathes, relaxing into her couch cushions.

“Are you not even the least bit worried about the trouble he might be? His file, Stiles, it's one of the worst I have ever seen. I didn’t even tell you everything.” She turns her body, tucking her feet up under herself.

“It doesn’t matter Lydia. I have to get him out of there.”

“You don’t even know who _He_ is! I thought you would at least look at this rationally.”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I have to do this.” He looks down the hall, trying to find something to distract him... for the next three hours.

She sighs and nods. “For your mom.”

“For Talia.” He adds. “For both of them. The least I can do is use her life insurance to get Talia’s remaining family out of the system.” That's the most she's going to get out of him. That’s it. No more. Nada.

Lydia lays her head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’d take him but…”

“You already have three hot heads on your plate. I get it. I wouldn’t let you anyway.” He says, rubbing her shoulder. “This is something I have to do.”

She curls in closer resting her head against his shoulder with his arm wrapped snugly around her.

Eight years ago he'd have been thrilled to be in such a position with Lydia, but not anymore. Not like that. Lydia is his sister, and no one will ever tell him otherwise.

“So I guess Operation LSD is going to have to get off the ground a lot sooner than we planned?” She asks with a grin that he returns wholeheartedly.

That was the acronym they settled on back in high school for their mission. Lydia. Stiles. Danny. It was just a bonus that it was a drug.

“Yea, I wasn’t planning on actually living with a wolf yet. I wanted to get the building cleaned up first so they never felt like I owned them in the first place.” He sighs, he shouldn’t have procrastinated as much as he did. Not one other loft is livable yet, only his, because he’s a stupid head.

“It’ll be fine.” She claps him on the knee. “I have faith in you. You can bring out the best in everyone and if you get desperate you can just annoy him into submission.”

He rolls his eyes at that. “Thanks for the encouragement, Lydia. Real helpful.” He tries not to think about how unstable this Hale might be. He is under no impression that this is going to be some happy ever after.

Lydia literally has a therapist who comes by her house once a week for appointments with all of the wolves.

Again, not thinking about it. Nope. He just has to get him before anyone else does.

Isaac makes them breakfast and they all laugh, eat, and talk, it really is like a big family here.

Stiles looks around at all of these werewolves and wonders how people can be so hateful? Why can’t they see they are people just like them?

Stiles tries not to think too hard about all the hate in the world as he waits for eight to roll around so that he can go rescue one of Talia’s children.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find Derek.

He doesn’t have to ask Lydia to come with him; she’s already in her coat by the door waiting for him.

Truth is, he’s terrified. He’s never been to a trading post, but he’s heard enough to know it’s not going to be pleasant. Lydia’s told him about the atmosphere of pain, self loathing, and despair. 

Stiles isn’t looking forward to going. Not one bit. But there’s a Hale, and a promise to keep. 

The ride to  _ Calavera Trading _ is a long one, which gives Stiles time to sit and think, but most of his thoughts are just one big circle of;  _ ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. _

He’s not ready. 

What if the wolf remembers him? What if the wolf hated him? What if it’s uncle Peter? 

He doesn’t remember a lot of Talia’s kids because they were always taken away when they came of age, which translates into whenever the Werewolf gene made itself known. 

Stiles’ mom fought to keep them but it rarely worked out long enough to matter, in the end all of Talia’s children were taken from the Stilinski’s. 

All wolves are sterilized, the government doesn’t want them breeding, but Talia was an Alpha, therefore the treatments didn’t work. Another reason people hated the Stilinski family. They enabled an Alpha at least three more heirs. Society is terrified of being overrun by wolves. Yes, they’re a major contribution to the economy, but they want to keep the Were population down.

Stiles thinks about Peter again. 

His mom had taken Peter in with Talia as well, so that the siblings were not separated. 

Peter hung around the house, and always seemed to be involved with everything. It always made Stiles uneasy. Peter could be funny, but he still made Stiles uncomfortable. He really hopes it’s not Peter Hale waiting for him. Not that he wouldn’t take him, it’s just that he would rather not share a room with Creepy Uncle Peter, thank you very much.

He’s not even ready for a wolf, let alone Peter. 

Lydia breaks him out of his thoughts. “Stiles, you’re bleeding.” She pulls his hand from his mouth revealing his bloody thumb he’d been chewing on. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s ready.” He sucks the blood off his thumb. “The loft I live in is still cold and bare. I’m supposed to be giving them a better life but all I’m doing is bringing them into an abandoned building. They’ll have to share the only livable space in there right now, with me!” 

“It’s better than a cage. Or a brothel. Or a barn. Or anywhere else for that matter. Because you care about them, Stiles.” She rubs his shoulders. “Now put your game face on because we’re here.”

When they enter he tries to school his face into something passive. He doesn't want to alert anyone that he’s against everything this structure stands for. If you didn’t know what the building was set up for; you’d be none the wiser. The walls are just off white and it looks like any other waiting room. 

They’re personally welcomed by Araya Calavera, owner of  _ Calavera Trading _ . “Ms. Martin. How lovely to see you. Here for another? We just received a new shipment!” She holds herself high, as if above all those around her.

“No, actually I was hoping you might have something for my friend here.” Lydia says in a tone Stiles isn’t personally familiar with. A tone close to the one Araya is using.

Stiles holds out his hand. “Stiles Stilinski.”

She eyes him before shaking his hand. “Any relation to John and Claudia?”

“Unfortunately, they’re my parents.” Stiles scratches his head with a roll of his eyes. 

Araya levels her glare, searching for sign of rebellion. 

Stiles drops his hand with a clap to his thigh. “Look, I came to you because Lydia said you could help me. Once any other trading post hears my last name, i’m kicked out. I was just a kid when my parents rebelled.”

She looks toward Lydia, and must be reassured because she lifts her arm in welcome. “We just got a new shipment. Let’s head on back and see if any catch your fancy, Mr. Stilinski.” 

They nod and follow her back.

Lydia stays close to his side when they walk in. He isn’t even six steps in when he sees how the wolves are displayed. 

Chained to a chain link fence pulsing with electricity just low enough to keep them from shifting, the low buzz filling the room. 

He looks up and down the row and there are easily thirty wolves here. He swallows trying not to let his disgust show. This is inhumane. 

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to see him.

He almost doesn’t believe it. The last time Stiles saw him he was only seven years old; Stiles had just turned five when he was taken away. Stiles doesn’t remember much, just the day he was taken, and old photos. 

His mom and Talia have to be rolling over in their graves. 

Derek. 

The once fun, bubbly, little kid who loved legos, dinosaurs, and caterpillars, was now chained to a fence and has obviously been through hell and back based on his file. 

Stiles pretends to assess the other wolves so he doesn’t raise any flags with Araya. 

Lydia brings her hand up to his back to signal when it’s been long enough to safely make a decision. 

Stiles gives her a nod, as Lydia had instructed him to do in the car.

Araya smiles leading them back to her office. “Mr. Stilinski. I trust you found something in our stock to your liking?” She sits back, steepling her fingers, and resting her elbows on the armrests.

He clears his throat pulling out the bundles of cash in his pockets, finally having made it out of the safe in his loft reserved for funds to buy wolves. “I’ll give you ten thousand for number 26.” He sits back hoping this will go quickly and his desperation doesn’t show. He isn’t going to get a single decent lungful of air until Derek’s safely in Lydia’s car.

“Derek Hale? Interesting choice.” She leans forward, and Stiles knows that she has to be connecting a few dots. “What do you want with him?”

Lydia clears her throat beside him, but he speaks for himself. “That’s none of your concern.” Because it isn’t. 

She smiles, pretending she has no suspicions. “Please Mr. Stilinski, he’s hardly house trained. I’m sure we could find something much more  _ useful _ .” She says the last word like Derek is some mangy animal. 

Stiles forces his face not to reflect how he disagrees.

He leans forward making eye contact, “Well, I think I’ll have plenty use of his mouth.” 

Her jaw slackens like that was the last thing she expected him to say. 

“Come on, no one would pay half of what I am offering considering the condition he’s in.” He swallows remembering the blood and scars across his chest. The electric fence not allowing him to heal. “Let me take him off your hands. It’s a win-win. You won’t have to deal with him and I’ll have a pretty face to warm my bed.” The words alone turn his stomach. This probably isn’t the first time she has heard these words.

“Very well. Pleasure doing business, Mr. Stilinski.” They say their goodbyes and Lydia leads them to the front office to fill out paperwork. 

Stiles can’t fill it out fast enough. 

Derek is still chained to the fence. 

Once they’re done they head outside to bring the car around. Stiles stands, watching the front door, and sweating bullets until they finally bring Derek out. 

They don’t even give him a shirt. Just a fresh wolfsbane collar and leash, and his hands secured in front by Roan Oak shackles. 

Derek keeps his head down. 

“Number 26, sir.” The bodyguard says, handing the leash over. “Do you have all the necessary supplies and restraints to house this animal?” 

Stiles rolls his eyes at the guard. “Do you think I was born yesterday? I don’t have a death wish.” He actually has nothing more than what Derek has on, but no one else needs to know that. 

The number of things coming out daily to help restrain Werewolves is seriously insane. Stiles has literally seen a cockring made from wolfsbane. He never wants to find out what that does. Ever. 

He opens the back door, allowing Derek inside first. 

Derek slides in, and across the seats, keeping his head down. 

Stiles plans to talk to Derek when they get in, but Lydia is on the phone already talking business with Danny. 

Thank god. 

Stiles is no where close to being ready to try and get the business off the ground. His main focus right now is just getting Derek settled in.

Lydia drops them off at his building and Derek looks up at the shabby exterior.

“I know it looks bad now, but I have plans for this.” Stiles says reaching over and stroking Derek’s back, silently wanting to wrap Derek in a long overdue hug. “You must be freezing. Let's get you inside.” 

They walk through the lobby and step into the elevator. 

Stiles can’t accept that this poor creature standing in front of him is Derek. So quiet. So timid. So broken… He sends a silent prayer up to Talia asking her to forgive him for taking so long.

Stiles opens the door to his loft and removes his jacket while he raises the thermostat. “Make yourself comfortable,” Stiles says over his shoulder while he checks that the vents are actually blowing hot air. 

They say werewolves don’t get cold, but he doesn’t feel like testing that theory right now. 

“Sorry it’s basically crap, you just moved everything ahead of schedule, so we’re going to be sharing the loft for a while.” Stiles turns on the lights and empties his pockets before realizing that he hasn’t heard or seen movement since they entered. 

When he turns around Derek’s sitting on the edge of the bed in the farthest corner of the loft’s open floor plan. Still not healed. Pale. And… God, he’s unrecognizable. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks.

“I assume you want me in your bed, master.” He says carefully, not making eye contact. 

“What? No!” Stiles spreads his arms. “That’s barbaric, I would never treat anyone like that.” 

“You just bought me for ten grand.” Derek pauses, still not meeting his eyes. “I heard what you said. About my mouth.” Derek says looking up at him.

“....Right.” He runs a hand through his hair, that sounds bad. “But I’m not going to hurt you, or make you do that. I won’t hurt you. Ever.” Stiles walks to the sink to wet a washcloth, while he tries to figure out how he’s going to convince Derek that he’d never do something like that to him, then makes his way over to Derek at the bed. “Ok?” 

Derek nods once. 

“Good.” Stiles starts washing away the blood. The marks are deep. Stiles doesn’t even try to imagine what happened so he just asks. “How did this happen?” 

“I tried to get away. Went through a window. Woke up chained to an electric fence. No time to heal.” He says softly, not moving.

“Why haven’t you healed yet? It’s been almost two hours?” Stiles feels Derek’s shoulder jerk when he presses just a little too hard at a mark. God, this is bad.

“I was there three days. It’s going to take a while.” 

Stiles nods biting his tongue. “Follow me.” The rag isn’t going to work, he needs a shower. It might actually feel good. Maybe make him feel human again… or at least a little better. 

All he needs right now is for Derek to feel better.

Derek doesn’t miss a beat; he simply stands up, and smoothly follows him into the bathroom. He starts to undo his pants when Stiles turns on the shower.

“You-” Stiles blurts. “You don’t have to do that! You can keep the pants on. I have some clothes for you. Clean clothes. You can keep them on just long enough for me to take care of your chest, then you can take them off and take a real shower.” He looks for a reaction and gets none. “Okay?” 

Sure, he could let Derek take care of his own wounds, let them heal like normal in time, but he really needs to do this himself. Needs to show Derek he isn’t alone, and that he has a friend.

“Yes, sir,” Derek says keeping his eyes down. 

What happened to him?

“No, Derek,” Stiles groans frustrated, and Derek flinches at the words. Stiles walks over grabbing Derek’s face. “Look at me.” 

Derek looks on the verge of tears, so Stiles immediately lets go of his face, but Derek drops his head again. 

Stiles gently lifts Derek’s face with his knuckle. “I will never make you do anything you don’t want. I am not your owner-  you aren’t just some dog.” Stiles spits, that’s the common treatment for wolves, some even have dog houses. “You are not my slave. You got that?” 

Derek seems to force a nod, confusion riddling his face, and only then does Stiles continue his rant. 

“Look, you can take your pants off if you want to, you can take a shower if you want to. You can tell me not to touch you. You can tell me I talk too much, for crying out loud!” Stiles forces a laugh as he sees the man in front of him relax just the slightest. Stiles isn’t sure if Derek is really relaxing, or if he’s just trying to make his ‘Master’ happy. Stiles prays for the former. “It’s not a trick. I’ll explain everything later, but I really need to get a better look at that and bandage it up. Okay?” He says and Derek nods, actually maintaining eye contact. 

Progress.

When Derek steps into the shower, thankfully with his pants still on, the water instantly runs muddy red and Stiles tries not to think about it. He just focuses on cleaning out the gashes scattering his torso. 

Derek presses into his palm occasionally, eyes closed, enjoying the water pressure and heat. 

“When is the last time you had a real shower?” Stiles asks. 

“Can’t remember.”

“Jesus,” Stiles breathes, fuming. “Well, take as many showers as you want. As long as you want. Sky's the limit, okay?” 

Derek nods. “You’re angry.” 

“Of course I’m fucking angry.” Stiles fights to keep his voice down.

“At me? Because I’m dirty?” Derek asks ducking his eyes away again.

“No.” Stiles tries carefully. “Because you’re not an animal. I can’t stand this society. It’s disgusting.” Stiles stops, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself before his scrubbing makes Derek’s wounds worse. “Alright. Go ahead and finish showering, I’ll bring in some clothes. When you get out I’ll bandage that, okay?” 

Derek nods.

Just as he’s walking out he hears a quiet, “Thank you”. Stiles smiles and closes the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what ya think!


End file.
